24

The Cruise of the Coracle

IT was broad day when I awoke and found myself tossing

at the south-west end of Treasure Island. The sun was up

but was still hid from me behind the great bulk of the Spy-glass,

which on this side descended almost to the sea in formidable cliffs.

Haulbowline Head and Mizzen-mast Hill were at my elbow,

the hill bare and dark, the head bound with cliffs forty

or fifty feet high and fringed with great masses of fallen rock.

I was scarce a quarter of a mile to seaward, and it was my first

thought to paddle in and land.

That notion was soon given over. Among the fallen rocks

the breakers spouted and bellowed; loud reverberations,

heavy sprays flying and falling, succeeded one another

from second to second; and I saw myself, if I ventured nearer,

dashed to death upon the rough shore or spending my strength

in vain to scale the beetling crags.

Nor was that all, for crawling together on flat tables of rock

or letting themselves drop into the sea with loud reports

I beheld huge slimy monsters--soft snails, as it were,

of incredible bigness--two or three score of them together,

making the rocks to echo with their barkings.

I have understood since that they were sea lions, and entirely

harmless. But the look of them, added to the difficulty of the shore

and the high running of the surf, was more than enough

to disgust me of that landing-place. I felt willing rather

to starve at sea than to confront such perils.

In the meantime I had a better chance, as I supposed, before me.

North of Haulbowline Head, the land runs in a long way,

leaving at low tide a long stretch of yellow sand. To the north

of that, again, there comes another cape--Cape of the Woods,

as it was marked upon the chart--buried in tall green pines,

which descended to the margin of the sea.

I remembered what Silver had said about the current that sets

northward along the whole west coast of Treasure Island,

and seeing from my position that I was already under its influence,

I preferred to leave Haulbowline Head behind me and reserve

my strength for an attempt to land upon the kindlier-looking

Cape of the Woods.

There was a great, smooth swell upon the sea. The wind blowing

steady and gentle from the south, there was no contrariety

between that and the current, and the billows rose and fell unbroken.

Had it been otherwise, I must long ago have perished; but as it was,

it is surprising how easily and securely my little and light boat

could ride. Often, as I still lay at the bottom and kept no more

than an eye above the gunwale, I would see a big blue summit

heaving close above me; yet the coracle would but bounce a little,

dance as if on springs, and subside on the other side into the trough

as lightly as a bird.

I began after a little to grow very bold and sat up to try my skill

at paddling. But even a small change in the disposition of the weight

will produce violent changes in the behaviour of a coracle.

And I had hardly moved before the boat, giving up at once

her gentle dancing movement, ran straight down a slope of water

so steep that it made me giddy, and struck her nose,

with a spout of spray, deep into the side of the next wave.

I was drenched and terrified, and fell instantly back into my old

position, whereupon the coracle seemed to find her head again

and led me as softly as before among the billows. It was plain

she was not to be interfered with, and at that rate, since I could

in no way influence her course, what hope had I left of reaching

land?

I began to be horribly frightened, but I kept my head, for all that.

First, moving with all care, I gradually baled out the coracle

with my sea-cap; then, getting my eye once more above the

gunwale, I set myself to study how it was she managed to slip

so quietly through the rollers.

I found each wave, instead of the big, smooth glossy mountain

it looks from shore or from a vessel's deck, was for all the world

like any range of hills on dry land, full of peaks and smooth places

and valleys. The coracle, left to herself, turning from side to side,

threaded, so to speak, her way through these lower parts and

avoided the steep slopes and higher, toppling summits of the wave.

"Well, now," thought I to myself, "it is plain I must lie where I am

and not disturb the balance; but it is plain also that I can put

the paddle over the side and from time to time, in smooth places,

give her a shove or two towards land." No sooner thought upon

than done. There I lay on my elbows in the most trying attitude,

and every now and again gave a weak stroke or two to turn

her head to shore.

It was very tiring and slow work, yet I did visibly gain ground;

and as we drew near the Cape of the Woods, though I saw I must

infallibly miss that point, I had still made some hundred yards

of easting. I was, indeed, close in. I could see the cool green

tree-tops swaying together in the breeze, and I felt sure I should

make the next promontory without fail.

It was high time, for I now began to be tortured with thirst.

The glow of the sun from above, its thousandfold reflection

from the waves, the sea-water that fell and dried upon me,

caking my very lips with salt, combined to make my throat burn

and my brain ache. The sight of the trees so near at hand

had almost made me sick with longing, but the current had soon

carried me past the point, and as the next reach of sea opened out,

I beheld a sight that changed the nature of my thoughts.

Right in front of me, not half a mile away, I beheld

the HISPANIOLA under sail. I made sure, of course,

that I should be taken; but I was so distressed for want of water

that I scarce knew whether to be glad or sorry at the thought,

and long before I had come to a conclusion, surprise had taken

entire possession of my mind and I could do nothing but stare

and wonder.

The HISPANIOLA was under her main-sail and two jibs,

and the beautiful white canvas shone in the sun like snow or silver.

When I first sighted her, all her sails were drawing; she was lying

a course about north-west, and I presumed the men on board

were going round the island on their way back to the anchorage.

Presently she began to fetch more and more to the westward,

so that I thought they had sighted me and were going about

in chase. At last, however, she fell right into the wind's eye,

was taken dead aback, and stood there awhile helpless,

with her sails shivering.

"Clumsy fellows," said I; "they must still be drunk as owls."

And I thought how Captain Smollett would have set them skipping.

Meanwhile the schooner gradually fell off and filled again

upon another tack, sailed swiftly for a minute or so,

and brought up once more dead in the wind's eye.

Again and again was this repeated. To and fro, up and down,

north, south, east, and west, the HISPANIOLA sailed

by swoops and dashes, and at each repetition ended

as she had begun, with idly flapping canvas. It became plain to me

that nobody was steering. And if so, where were the men?

Either they were dead drunk or had deserted her, I thought,

and perhaps if I could get on board I might return the vessel

to her captain.

The current was bearing coracle and schooner southward

at an equal rate. As for the latter's sailing, it was so wild and

intermittent, and she hung each time so long in irons,

that she certainly gained nothing, if she did not even lose.

If only I dared to sit up and paddle, I made sure that I could

overhaul her. The scheme had an air of adventure that inspired me,

and the thought of the water breaker beside the fore companion

doubled my growing courage.

Up I got, was welcomed almost instantly by another cloud

of spray, but this time stuck to my purpose and set myself,

with all my strength and caution, to paddle after the unsteered

HISPANIOLA. Once I shipped a sea so heavy that I had to stop

and bail, with my heart fluttering like a bird, but gradually

I got into the way of the thing and guided my coracle

among the waves, with only now and then a blow upon her bows

and a dash of foam in my face.

I was now gaining rapidly on the schooner; I could see the brass

glisten on the tiller as it banged about, and still no soul appeared

upon her decks. I could not choose but suppose she was deserted.

If not, the men were lying drunk below, where I might

batten them down, perhaps, and do what I chose with the ship.

For some time she had been doing the worse thing possible

for me--standing still. She headed nearly due south, yawing,

of course, all the time. Each time she fell off, her sails partly filled,

and these brought her in a moment right to the wind again.

I have said this was the worst thing possible for me, for helpless

as she looked in this situation, with the canvas cracking like cannon

and the blocks trundling and banging on the deck, she still

continued to run away from me, not only with the speed

of the current, but by the whole amount of her leeway,

which was naturally great.

But now, at last, I had my chance. The breeze fell for some

seconds, very low, and the current gradually turning her,

the HISPANIOLA revolved slowly round her centre and at last

presented me her stern, with the cabin window still gaping open

and the lamp over the table still burning on into the day.

The main-sail hung drooped like a banner. She was stock-still

but for the current.

For the last little while I had even lost, but now redoubling

my efforts, I began once more to overhaul the chase.

I was not a hundred yards from her when the wind came again

in a clap; she filled on the port tack and was off again,

stooping and skimming like a swallow.

My first impulse was one of despair, but my second was

towards joy. Round she came, till she was broadside on to me--

round still till she had covered a half and then two thirds

and then three quarters of the distance that separated us.

I could see the waves boiling white under her forefoot.

Immensely tall she looked to me from my low station

in the coracle.

And then, of a sudden, I began to comprehend. I had scarce time

to think--scarce time to act and save myself. I was on the summit

of one swell when the schooner came stooping over the next.

The bowsprit was over my head. I sprang to my feet and leaped,

stamping the coracle under water. With one hand I caught

the jib-boom, while my foot was lodged between the stay and

the brace; and as I still clung there panting, a dull blow told me

that the schooner had charged down upon and struck the coracle

and that I was left without retreat on the HISPANIOLA.

****

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